


The Season of All Natures

by Cliotheproclaimer



Category: The Worst Witch (TV 2017), The Worst Witch - All Media Types
Genre: Background Relationships, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Fluff, Insomnia, Light Angst, Mildred and Hecate bond, Mildred is a tired little bean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-30
Updated: 2018-04-30
Packaged: 2019-04-30 06:02:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14490399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cliotheproclaimer/pseuds/Cliotheproclaimer
Summary: "There was a gentle thud, and Hecate whipped her head around. Mildred’s cup had fallen to the floor, tea pooling around it, and the girl herself had fallen fast asleep, head resting on the arm of the chair and legs half curled up on the seat.Hecate regarded Mildred Hubble for a moment, noted how every tense muscle in the girl’s body seemed to have relaxed, how her exhausted frown had been smoothed away as she breathed evenly in her sleep. Then, careful not to make a sound, she vanished the mug and its spilled contents, and took a seat behind her desk, mindful of the need to run a few errands."A mini-sequel to 'A Cold Spell for the Worst Witch'





	The Season of All Natures

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on tumblr! Hope you enjoy this sequel of sorts to 'A Cold Spell for the Worst Witch' - would recommend reading that before you try this.

A week into the Easter term, once the girls were settled in and the consequences of any moving-in-related mishaps cleared up, it was customary for Ada Cackle and her deputy to meet and draw up a plan for exam term. Hecate would clear her schedule for the afternoon, and the two of them would create timetables and lesson plans and anti-cheating potions; arrange quiet revision sessions and mock examinations  and perhaps some mentoring for little Sybil Hallow from one of the older girls.

It was eight o’clock before Hecate opened her pocket watch and thought that it really was time to be getting back to her marking.

‘Will that be all, Headmistress?’ Hecate made a motion as if to rise, but Ada lifted a hand to stop her.

‘Just one more thing, Hecate.’ There was a look of unhappiness about Ada’s face. ‘Mildred Hubble.’ Hecate raised an eyebrow.

‘What about Mildred Hubble?’ Ada bit her lip, and waved a hand to summon her notebook.

‘Quite a few of her teachers are concerned.’ She said, anxiously. Hecate stiffened.

‘There is no reason to be any more concerned for Mildred Hubble than for any other pupil, Ada.’ She reminded the Headmistress a little tartly. ‘She has been as healthy as can be expected since she returned from the Easter vacation, and I understand that she is as adverse to being given special treatment as I am to her receiving it.’

Ada shook her head at her deputy, flicking through the pages of her notebook.

‘Dimity reports of Mildred being quiet and withdrawn during flying sessions. Algernon says that her position in spell-science has lowered…and Maud Spellbody came to see me the other day.’

‘The girl is a notorious worrier…’ Hecate began, but Ada cut her off.

‘Maud says that Mildred has not been eating well for the past few days, and is having trouble concentrating in class. You cannot deny, Hecate, that these add up to suggest that Mildred Hubble is not coping well with her return to Cackle’s.’

Hecate frowned, and looked at her lap to prevent Ada from seeing her warring emotions.

‘Very well.’ She said, slowly. ‘Then I suggest, Ada, that you bring Mildred Hubble to your study, and ask her to confide what is troubling her.’ Ada’s unhappy expression seemed to deepen.

‘I did.’ She admitted. ‘I would have told you, but I knew you would disapprove of me making a fuss, and I thought it would be sorted out if she could just tell me what was troubling her. Hecate looked up.

‘She didn’t?’ She asked, surprised. Ada shook her head. ‘Well, what did she say?’

‘Assured me that she was fine.’ The Headmistress replied, eyes flicking across the relevant section of her notes. ‘Said that she wasn’t feeling ill any more, and certainly didn’t need to visit her mother or spend a night in the sanatorium.’ Hecate’s mouth drew in a thin line.

‘I see.’ She said, eventually. Hecate could well imagine Mildred Hubble’s vehement objection to being treated as an invalid once more by the faculty.

 

Miss Cackle hadn’t wanted to burden Mildred with the toll Agatha’s winter curse had had on her person. Hecate could understand why – the matter had been the subject of a number of tense meetings between staff members as they tried to work out why Mildred Hubble still struggled with the stairs two weeks after the curse had been broken, or how to compel the girl to eat more without revealing how desperately she needed to. But it meant that last term Mildred veered between frustration at being confined to her bed for extended periods and fear that there was something of the curse still lingering with her. 

And yet she had come back that term well enough, and had seemed happy to be in the classroom once more.

 

Perhaps Ada was right, Hecate mused. Perhaps it was the return to Cackle’s that was the root of it all.

‘Which was why I was hoping you could help.’ Hecate was startled out of her daydream.

‘Ada, I doubt there is much I can say to you that will – ‘

‘Not to me, to her.’ Hecate’s eyes widened.

‘I beg your pardon?’ She asked, sure she must have misheard. ‘If Mildred Hubble won’t tell you what’s wrong, what on earth could make you think that she would confess to me?’ Ada took off her glasses, suddenly incredibly interested in polishing them.

‘You seemed to be a great help to her last term, with her little anxieties.’ She remarked, casually.

‘That was different.’ Hecate straightened her posture. ‘I was merely pointing out some…irrationalities in how she was thinking about the curse. It was practically academic discussion.’ Ada seemed to be fighting the urge to roll her eyes.

‘Well then.’ She said, patiently. ‘Have another academic discussion with her. The truth is, Hecate – and don’t deny it,’ she added, seeing her deputy about to interrupt, ‘that you are the only person who can have any inkling of what Mildred Hubble experienced that night last term. And the girl has great trust in and respect for you.’ Hecate struggled for words, but under Ada’s stern gaze fell silent.

‘Very well.’ She said, trying not to sound ungracious. ‘I shall…talk with Mildred Hubble.’ Ada beamed.

‘Thank you Hecate.’ She said in relief. ‘I’m sure you’ll do a wonderful job.’

 

* * *

 

 

Hecate, however began her second year class the next morning with a palpable feeling of dread. Truth be told, she hadn’t the faintest idea of how to engage the child in conversation, especially where it concerned such a sensitive, _emotional_ matter.

  _Perhaps it won’t be necessary_ , she thought, glancing around as her second year class began to file in. _Perhaps Mildred Hubble really was telling the truth, and there is nothing for us to worry about_.

 Upon seeing Mildred, all such thoughts left her mind. The girl was pale, and the dark bags beneath her eyes were large enough to have luggage all of their own. Frowning, Miss Hardbroom went behind her desk and looked at her teaching notebook. Mildred Hubble’s marks had not gone down – not significantly, anyway. The girl looked on the verge of collapse; it seemed to beggar belief that she could have avoided Hecate’s eagle-eyed gaze.

 As the lesson progressed, however, Hecate began to understand. Maud and Enid were keeping their friend under near constant surveillance – when Mildred in a seeming daze attempted to add pondweed instead of samphire, Maud caught her hand and added the correct ingredient. Enid Nightshade, meanwhile, had concealed her chopping board behind a book – and when Hecate looked over, she could see that Enid was carefully sorting out their materials, so that when Mildred reached over, unseeing of what she was she was adding to her cauldron, her fingers would in fact close around more or less the correct quantity of what she was supposed to be adding.

 ‘Maud, Enid.’ Miss Hardbroom’s voice was quiet, but both girls started guiltily. ‘Attend to your own potions, please.’

‘Yes Miss Hardbroom.’ Came the reply, Maud and Enid looking at each other in dismay.

 With an unpleasant jolt, Hecate realised that it was not so much Mildred the two girls were worried by, but what her own reaction would be should disaster ensue from Mildred’s inattentiveness.

 Just as she was pondering this revelation, the inevitable happened. A loud _bang_ erupted from Mildred’s cauldron, and thick, acrid smoke began to fill the classroom.

‘Nice one, Mildred Hubble.’ Hecate could not see Ethel Hallow, but could well imagine the expression of distaste on her face. ‘Glad to see the curse didn’t make a blind bit of difference to your brains!’

‘Oh go away, Ethel.’ Mildred said, her voice wobbling a little. With a sigh, Hecate waved her hand, vanishing the offending cauldron and its contents. Mildred Hubble looked up at her teacher with a slightly hopeless air.

‘I’m sorry, Miss Hardbroom.’ She said, biting her lip. ‘It was an accident.’ Hecate’s eyes flashed dangerously, eyebrows rising.

‘An…accident.’ She enunciated, eyes scanning Mildred’s face. Her student nodded. Hecate regarded Mildred for a moment, and then sighed. ‘Mildred Hubble, your entire school career has been one accident careening into another. You are going into third year soon, and cannot carry on in this…haphazard way, else you will be a danger not only to yourself, but to your peers. Have I made myself clear?’

Mildred blinked, but nodded, evidently surprised by how leniently the Potions Mistress was addressing her – normally such a mistake would have earnt comments such as ‘disgrace to the craft’ and ‘complete lack of magical talent or control’.

‘Yes Miss Hardbroom.’ Hecate narrowed her eyes.

‘Good. Now clean up your workstation. You can write me an essay on the importance of rue in a truth potion. The rest of you, back to work – I shall be tasting all of your potions before you leave.

 

After that, the lesson progressed much as usual – exemplary work from Maud and Ethel and adequate potions from the rest of the class – until the bell rang for lunch. But as the class were filing out, Hecate stopped Mildred as she gathered up her things.

‘Mildred Hubble, come with me, if you please.’

‘Yes, Miss Hardbroom.’ Mildred said miserably, slinging her bag over her shoulder. Hecate flicked her wrist, and transferred the two of them from the Potions lab.

 

* * *

 

 

As they re-materialised, Mildred looked around at her surroundings in confusion.

‘Where are we, Miss Hardbroom?’ She asked, gazing at the tall bookshelves that lined the walls, at the meticulously organised desk and the chessboard in front of the fireplace with a half-finished game waiting to be resumed. Hecate did not answer, instead inclining her head towards one of two upright, upholstered armchairs.

‘Have a seat, Mildred.’ She told her pupil, firmly. Bewildered, Mildred did as she was told, looking up expectantly. ‘Tea?’ The puzzlement on Mildred’s face only deepened.

‘Er, yes please.’ She stammered. Wordlessly, Hecate summoned a pot, and set it down on the round coffee table in front of them. Then, sitting herself down in the chair opposite, she poured out two mugs of steaming purple-hued tea, handing Mildred one of the cups. Hecate’s student balanced it on her lap, wrapping her fingers around the warmth of the brew.

‘Is this a new kind of detention?’ Mildred asked nervously. Hecate’s lips quirked up a little, but she schooled her expression.

‘You aren’t well.’ She said, foregoing pre-amble. Mildred’s eyes widened, her mouth open in outrage.

‘Yes I am, Miss Hardbroom.’ She said passionately, her voice cracking a little. ‘I’m fine, honestly.’

‘Do not test my patience, Mildred.’ Hecate snapped, narrowing her eyes at the girl. ‘Any witch could see it, looking at you. And whilst you may be able to bring yourself to lie to the Headmistress about it, do _not_ be so foolish as to think that you can lie to me.’ Mildred’s face crumpled a little, but Hecate was grudgingly impressed when she didn’t succumb to tears.

‘I’m sorry.’ She whispered, looking up at her teacher in anxiety. ‘I’m not - it’s not a lie.’

‘Well what in the world is it, then?’ Hecate asked, her gaze softening a little as she ran her eyes over the child. Unconsciously, Mildred’s hands tightened around the mug.

‘I am better, I promise.’ She said, her eyes meeting Hecate’s. ‘I’m definitely not ill. I just – can’t sleep at the moment.’ Hecate raised her eyebrows, indicating for the girl to continue as she sipped at her tea.

‘It’s not…I was fine at home. But I just keep thinking about not being able to wake up, and Agatha being in the corner of my room – I know she’s not, I _know,_ but at night it feels as though she’s still waiting in my head.’

Mildred’s words, long held back, were tumbling from her mouth now; she held the mug with trembling hands. ‘And when I do get to sleep, I keep having…bad dreams, awful bad dreams about Agatha, and about being buried – and hearing your voice, but you don’t know where I am. Then when I wake up, I think that it’s real, because that time it _was_ real, it wasn’t just a dream, and…’

Mildred seemed to realise what she was saying then and blushed, ducking her head and setting her tea down so that she could bury her hands in her lap and disguise their shaking. ‘I’m sorry, Miss Hardbroom.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous, Mildred Hubble.’ Hecate said, the gentleness in her voice surprising even herself. ‘The only thing you should be sorry for is not telling us sooner.’

‘I just felt so silly.’ Mildred whispered, tears finally beginning to fall. ‘I hate this – I hate not being able to fight it off, I hate that it’s still affecting my magic – I hate that I can’t get Agatha Cackle out of my head!’ Her voice was rising with emotion, and unbeknownst to the two witches a particularly ugly pink vase was reduced to smithereens. 

 

Hecate sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger.

‘I’m afraid there’s not much I can say by way of comfort.’ She said, as Mildred sniffed and attempted to wipe away her tears with her sleeve. Without so much as a lecture, Hecate produced a handkerchief and handed it to the girl. ‘Only that Agatha Cackle is _categorically_ no longer in your head. I witnessed the banishment spell you performed – it was a thing of great power. It overcame her utterly.’

‘I know.’ Millie admitted, breath hitching as she forced herself to stifle her sobs. ‘But I can’t…I can’t make myself feel it. I don’t know what to do.’

 

At Mildred’s last words, Hecate regarded the girl a little sternly.

‘Do?’ She asked, setting down her cup. ‘Mildred Hubble, what is clear to me is that you have become distinctly overtired. So it is my wish that you remain in that chair, finish the remainder of your tea, and then once your afternoon lessons are over retire to your room. And believe me when I tell you that you have nothing to fear.’ At Mildred’s look of disbelief, she continued. ‘Aside from the near-impossibility of Agatha’s return, you were able to fight her off when you were at the very last reserves of your magical strength. Should she indeed return – and I understand the thought is frightening – you would be well capable of defeating her. I have no doubt whatsoever about that. Have I made myself clear?’ She held Mildred’s tear-filled gaze firmly, and watched as the girl’s shoulders slumped in relief and exhaustion. ‘Good.’

 

Nodding at her student, Hecate got up from her chair to peruse her bookshelves. ‘Perhaps a little light reading on the subject might help.’ She remarked. ‘There is quite a lot of literature on the effects of curses that induce cold, and whilst I do not wish for you to fall behind on your classwork…’

As she spoke, there was a gentle _thud_ , and Hecate whipped her head around. Mildred’s cup had fallen to the floor, tea pooling around it, and the girl herself had fallen fast asleep, head resting on the arm of the chair and legs half curled up on the seat.

Hecate regarded Mildred Hubble for a moment, noted how every tense muscle in the girl’s body seemed to have relaxed, how her exhausted frown had been smoothed away as she breathed evenly in her sleep. Then, careful not to make a sound, she vanished the mug and its spilled contents, and took a seat behind her desk, mindful of the need to run a few errands.

 

* * *

 

First, she wrote notes to Miss Bat and Miss Drill, explaining that Mildred would be absent from their classes, but not going into detail as to why. Fortuitously, she had the next two periods free, but had to send Miss Cackle a maglet message postponing the moderation of the sixth years’ potions coursework. Then, summoning her marking, Hecate settled down for the afternoon. Every so often, as she worked through papers, she glanced up at Mildred, but the girl remained deep in sleep, barely making a sound beyond the steady rush of her breathing. 

There was a scratching at the window, and Hecate looked up from the pages of exercise book to see Morgana meowing to be let in. A glance at the weather outside told her why – a late April rain had descended on the academy with a flourish, and she could hear the raindrops mark their steady patter on her roof.

‘So, you decided to grace me with your presence, at last?’ Hecate asked her familiar, disapprovingly. She flicked her wrist, and Morgana leapt serenely through the now open window to deposit three freshly-killed mice on Hecate’s desk, preening in front of her mistress. Hecate merely raised an unimpressed eyebrow.

‘And these are dormice, not harvest mice. Completely unsuitable for a weather spell.’ Morgana merely licked her paw, well used to her demanding mistress, and Hecate relented, giving the cat a few well-earned strokes.

It was then that Morgana caught sight of Mildred, currently curled up in her favourite spot. Hecate tensed. Morgana was not…fond of students, and that was putting it mildly. Not the most sociable cats at the best of times, after falling victim to a few cruel girls who saw her as a means of vengeance on the potions mistress for her cutting remarks, Morgana preferred to remain wholly out of the sights of the Cackle’s alumnae.

It was to Hecate’s amazement, therefore, that after regarding Mildred for a few seconds, her usually dignified feline leapt off of the desk and walked over to clamber onto the girl’s lap, purring like a common kitchen cat.

‘Well, really.’ Hecate said in exasperation. But Morgana, after regarding her mistress beadily, settled down and closed her eyes, ears flattened on her head.

 

* * *

 

After that, they were not interrupted until around five o’clock, when there was a loud knock to her door.

‘Enter.’ Hecate snapped her fingers, and the door opened to reveal a rather bedraggled Pippa Pentangle.

‘Hello, Hecate darling.’ Pippa chirped, wringing out her cloak. ‘Well met.’

‘Hush.’ Hecate motioned for her to be quiet, but walked over to kiss Pippa demurely on the cheek. Casting a quick drying spell, she asked in a low voice ‘Are you not early? I was expecting you for six.’

‘Not to worry, Hiccup.’ Pippa basked in the warmth of Hecate’s spell, a look of cat-like contentment on her face. ‘I wanted to speak to Ada about a magical exchange between our two institutions, and the rush-hour wasn’t nearly as bad as I thought it would be. Why the hushed tones?’ She broke off to ask, shooting a concerned look at Hecate. ‘You haven’t a headache?’

It was then that Pippa caught sight of the girl sound asleep on Pippa’s preferred armchair.

‘Is that – is that Mildred Hubble?’ Pippa breathed in astonishment, a hand coming to her heart. ‘Is she alright?’

‘She’s fine.’ Hecate said firmly, conjuring a chair next to the one behind her desk and motioning for Pippa to take it. ‘She is simply getting a bit of well-needed rest.’ Pippa let out an _oh_ of understanding.

‘Poor thing – she must have been exhausted.’ She said, sympathetically. Hecate inclined her head in acknowledgment.

‘She has been resisting sleep for quite some time now; I doubt she has had a full night’s worth since her return to Cackle’s. But I had a few words with her about the means by which she could be confident at having banished Agatha, and upon accepting the truth of them she seemed to find sleep a little easier.’

Hecate was a little proud of her appraisal of the situation – which was why she was rather perturbed by Pippa Pentangle scrunching her nose and covering her mouth with her hand to hide a smile. ‘Something you’d like to add, Pippa?’ She asked, tartly.

‘Nothing.’ Pippa assured her, smoothing out her skirts. ‘Only…only Hiccup, sometimes I wonder how a witch as perceptive as yourself can be so wonderfully lacking in self-awareness.’ Hecate stiffened.

‘I wasn’t aware that I was so…lacking.’ She said, brittle. Pippa’s eyes widened, and she clutched Hecate’s hand.

‘Oh no.’ She murmured. ‘Not in a bad way. But don't you see – it’s not that you pointed out flaws in her logic and won her over with rational argument. You made Mildred Hubble feel safe.’ Hecate was a little lost for words, at that.

‘Oh.’ She said, almost inaudibly. Pippa smiled at her, fondly.

‘You were just the same, when you were younger.’ She said, gently. ‘Couldn’t sleep a wink until you’d adjusted to a place – I remember when we still slept in dormitories, rolling over in the night to see you still wide awake, staring at the ceiling.’

Hecate bit her lip, feeling an unexpected pang for her younger self, insides coiled up in anxiety, forcing herself to do increasingly complex mental arithmetic to keep herself from panicking and waking the others.

‘When…when my mother died,’ She said slowly, wondering if she had ever shared this with Pippa, ‘Father’s sister – of course, you remember Aunt Letitia – told me that mother had been taken in her sleep. It was merely a way of explaining her death, of course, but I was too young to understand. I thought…’ She broke off, unable to voice what she thought.

Pippa’s hands came further over her own, tears sparkling in her eyes. ‘I would prick myself with pins whenever I felt too close to sleep, after that. I grew ill, I lost my appetite – Aunt Letitia told father that I was wilful and stubborn, and I was punished severely, but nothing they did could frighten me more than seeing mother all white and stiff on that bed, knowing that she had gone to sleep and never woken up again.’

Hecate blinked back her own tears, sniffing and ducking her head a little. Pippa perched herself on Hecate’s lap, handing her other half a pink, lace-edged handkerchief. ‘Thank you.’ Hecate blew her nose, and Pippa kissed her cheek, tenderly.

‘What changed?’ She asked, nestling into the crook of Hecate’s shoulder. ‘How did you get better?’ Hecate rested her head against Pippa’s, catching her pink-tipped fingers in her own and rubbing her thumb up and down Pippa’s knuckles absent-mindedly.

‘Well, as you said, I am still not the best of sleepers. But my mother’s aunt – Great Aunt Terpsichore – worked out what was going on. She invited me to her estate, telling my father that she would cure me of my stubborn streak for good. I was terrified, naturally – but when I arrived, she took me straight up to my room, settled down in an armchair and told me that I wasn’t leaving the room until she had seen me get a good night’s sleep with her own eyes.’ Hecate’s lips quirked up at the memory. ‘I lay in bed, and she told me stories of her time as a teacher until I really couldn’t fight sleep any longer. I think I was unconscious for almost two days, and when I woke up she was still there, still watching over me.’

Hecate almost smiled at the memory – her elderly great aunt, sharp as the point of a needle, dozing in the nearby chair as Hecate had woken to the sounds of her snores. ‘I suppose.’ She said slowly, ‘It was as you said. It was about feeling safe. And when I went home, I felt I carried something of my great-aunt with me.’

Pippa regarded Hecate with something indescribable in her eyes, and leant down to kiss her. But Hecate ducked.

‘She might wake up.’ She said by way of apology. Pippa glanced over at Mildred.

‘Yes, of course. Sorry, I wasn’t thinking.’ She hopped off Hecate’s lap. ‘I really should get going to see Ada, actually. When should I come back for?’ Hecate glanced at her watch.

‘If the child hasn’t woken by six, I’ll wake her then.’ She decided. ‘She has already missed lunch, after all, it would be a shame for her to miss dinner.’ Pippa’s eyes widened.

‘You let her sleep through lessons!’ A smile was growing on her face. ‘Have you _abducted_ Hecate Hardbroom?’ Hecate blushed.

‘Leave. Now.’

‘You let _Mildred Hubble_ miss two entire lessons?’

‘Pippa Pentangle if you do not leave my chambers this second…’ But as Hecate’s voice rose, she heard Morgana let out faint miaows from the chair. Mildred Hubble was stirring. Grinning, Pippa kissed Hecate’s cheek and moved quickly from the room. Hecate’s cheeks flushed a deeper pink, and she pretended to busy herself with her marking once more.

 

‘Miss Hardbroom?’

Mildred’s voice was cracked from sleep, and she was rubbing her eyes, stretching out on the chair.  ‘Did I fall asleep?’ Hecate’s lips quirked up.

‘It would appear so.’ She said lightly, deftly adding another red line to Beatrice Bunch’s potions essay. Then, she got to her feet and walked over to where Mildred was looking around her slightly dazedly, stifling a yawn.

‘That was an adequate start, Mildred Hubble.’ Hecate said in a clear, firm voice, as if congratulating the girl on a successfully brewed potion. ‘But a girl your age needs at least eight hours sleep a night, if not ten. By my count, you had about five.’

Mildred nodded slowly, the careworn expression returning somewhat to her face. She burrowed her fingers into Morgana’s soft fur, and Hecate watched in amazement as her familiar leaned towards the girl’s touch.

‘I’ll try.’ Mildred said, a crease appearing in her forehead. ‘Wait, five hours? I’ve missed all my classes, I…’

‘I have sent word to Miss Bat and Miss Drill, Mildred.’ Hecate interrupted. ‘It’s nothing a few hours catching up over the weekend will not fix.’ Mildred gaped, regarding her teacher in pure astonishment.

‘Close your mouth, Mildred, you aren’t catching flies.’ Hecate admonished, but there was no malice in her tone. Mildred shut her mouth, abruptly. ‘And I’ll see you in detention tomorrow evening, for your earlier performance in potions.’

 

Mildred got to her feet, slowly, depositing Morgana gently onto the floor. She regarded Hecate for a few moments, as if working something out in her head.

‘Thank you, Miss Hardbroom.’ Mildred said eventually, her eyes turned up to her teacher. Something twisted inside Hecate as she saw everything Ada and Pippa had been trying to tell her about how Mildred Hubble saw her. Trust, and liking, and respect. She thought about how peaceful Mildred had looked in her sleep, _younger_ somehow, and how already Mildred seemed tense at the thought of leaving. Thought about how even years and years after her mother’s death, she would feel her heart pound and her mouth go dry whenever she passed the room where her mother had drawn her last breath.

‘Mildred.’ Hecate said with a sudden thought. ‘You really are getting too big for that old junk room, wouldn’t you agree?’ Mildred’s expression turned to shock.

‘I – er – yes, Miss Hardbroom, I suppose you’re right.’ Hecate inclined her head.

‘Well then. I don’t see why we shouldn’t be able to find a more suitable room for you in the castle.’ She looked at Mildred steadily, and the girl returned her gaze with eyes as round as saucers.

‘Miss Hardbroom, I…’ She trailed off, too overwhelmed to carry on, and Hecate gave her an almost-smile. She checked her mother’s pocket watch, tracing the outline with her thumb.

‘Go, Mildred Hubble. Or your friends may think Ethel Hallow is back to her old tricks.’

Mildred nodded, gathering up her things. For a moment, she looked as though she would embrace the potions mistress, and Hecate stiffened in anticipation. But after a moment, she simply nodded, mumbled her thanks again and departed the room.

 

Hecate looked at her familiar, who was eyeing Hecate with a look that even on a cat could only be described as smugness.

‘I don’t know what you’re looking so happy about.’ Hecate muttered. ‘It would appear that there is now a second person you’re going to have to share that armchair with.'

 

**Author's Note:**

> Leave a comment if you enjoyed xx


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